


Who The 'ell Am I?  I Wish I Knew!

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 03:10:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14886515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Goniff in an introspective mood, perhaps revealing more to us than he intends.





	Who The 'ell Am I?  I Wish I Knew!

To Mum and Aunt Moll, I am 'dear Rodney', their baby, their innocent little boy, which I 'aven't been for more years than you'd think - innocent OR a boy, being as 'ow I'm over thirty and a veteran of Sing Sing, along with various other such institutions, and my life starting from a uncomfortably early age not being one particularly conducive to innocence.

To my mother's 'usband, my supposed father, I was 'that useless git', the one 'e'd caused, or at least let come to being, w'at with sending Mum to serve in the notorious Redmond 'ousehold for the ready, knowing w'at was likely to 'appen.

To various others, I'm 'Goniff'; means 'thief', you know, and it suits right enough; I have talented 'ands, can pick most any pocket, lift a necklace or bracelet, some little trinket; can climb, too, so second-story work came as a natural. 'Ave a few other little specialties, too, but those are the main ones.

The prison systems 'ad numbers for me, nicknames, none too flattering, though the official file was labeled 'Rodney Grainger'. I worked ruddy 'ard to make sure 'victim' wasn't one of them nicknames, which wasn't so easy considering my size. I mean, even I 'ave to face facts - I'm kinda a runt compared to the others. Coo, add in the blond 'air and blue eyes, and you're just an 'incident' waiting to 'appen, if you know w'at I mean.

To Maxie, the gang boss, I was ''w'at's 'is name', someone 'e felt safe in kifing a card game I was running and making off with the stakes, leaving me in one 'ell of a bind.

The Warden, the guys, yes, Goniff's who I am to them, as well, except to Casino, where I am just as often "little Limey', and more times than I can imagine, "dumb Limey!". It's alright; 'e 'as names for each of us - Chiefy is 'Indian', Actor is 'Beautiful'; Casino is the one w'at gave the Lieutenant the nickname, 'Warden', though if 'e 'adn't, one of us would 'ave. Anymore, I think 'e uses those so it aint so obvious that 'e really likes us all. Well, we all try to 'ide that some; maybe it's just a guy thing.

To Meghada, my 'Gaida, she calls me Goniff some of the time, sometimes I'm 'laddie', sometimes there's no name, just that look, that smile that she only seems to 'ave for me. Once, in a rather strange confrontation, I was 'my lovie'; she did it for a good enough reason, but it was still a little embarrassing, in front of the guys and all. I think Chiefy blushed, and Maxie, 'e looked a little sick, and Casino not far behind.

To the Warden, to Craig, I'm still just 'Goniff', but the tone of voice, that differs depending on who we're around, where we are, and that's alright; I, we, can tell the difference, and that's enough.

Who I am to me? Well, that is the question, aint it? It would be nice if I knew, but I don't know that I do. Not anymore, maybe not ever, though I may be starting to figure it out better now that I 'ave 'elp. Oh, when I was a tike, I knew, sort of anyway, though it was more based on 'ow others saw me and shifted depending on who I was with, so I guess some of the talent was always part of me. But I remember I knew there was a 'ME', that I existed outside of w'at anyone else saw, who I switched back to being when no one else was around. But, one day I was a tike, the next day, well, I wasn't, and I didn't know anymore.

Got all involved in a couple of projects that didn't leave much time or energy for worring about it. One of those, well, you don't need to know about that one, probably wouldn't 'elp you sleep at night. The other was figuring out 'ow to protect myself better, and it seemed the best way to do that was just not to BE me anymore. Go figure, what can I say, I was twelve! It made fair sense to me then. Maybe it was a good idea, maybe not, but it's done and it's served me fairly well.

Built all kinds a masks, disguises to wear so I would be someone else, someone with an edge in all kinds of situations. Now, I'm a dozen, more than a dozen characters, maybe real, maybe not. Sometimes I'd look in the mirror and wonder just who I really was, underneath. I never got much of an answer, even more as the years went by, and that's maybe the scariest thing of all, since it kinda pointed to maybe there not being anyone under the masks anymore. 

Then Meghada started writing songs again, and that's when it really got scary, cause she'd put words and music together and it was like she was pulling my thoughts, my feelings straight out of me, laying them out in the open for me to see, just like a fortune teller dealing a deck of cards, letting me puzzle over them til they made some kinda sense. Sometimes, it'd be after we'd talked about something, but sometimes? Sometimes it was like she was reading my mind, or maybe even going deeper. I mean, it's almost like she was introducing me to myself, pointing out things I didn't know about myself, or maybe 'ad forgotten. That's worried me a little. I just 'ope I like whoever it turns out I am under all those masks. She does, she told me so, so maybe I will too.

See, I'd learned to put on w'atever mask, disguise suited the occasion, worked best with the person I was with. With 'er, I didn't, still DON'T know which mask I was wearing when she first saw me, when she decided to invite me into the garden; I'd been perched up on that shadowy spot of 'er garden wall so many times, not moving, just watching 'er, listening to 'er.

Looking back, that sounds really off, I know that, something likely to get you arrested; but wasn't 'ow I meant it. Never meant any 'arm, never meant to scare 'er any. It's just, that garden was a little bit of peace, as long as she was there, and I was drawn to it, to 'er. I never intended to 'ave 'er see me, never intended to get down off that wall and go into the garden itself, figured she'd break me in two if I ever did; she 'ad the reputation for that, not allowing liberties of any kind, not welcoming visitors.

Each time I'd tell myself I wouldn't go back, but then I'd find myself sitting up there, listening as she talked to 'erself, or played that guitar, on my really lucky days she'd sing. Sometimes she'd put a plate up on the wall near the shadows, "for the squirrels," she'd announce, and never see, well, supposedly, as I finished whatever she'd put there. Well, I'd often been told I was 'alf squirrel, 'alf monkey. Coo, never knew squirrels could eat so good! But one day, she was looking straight into the shadows at me, talking TO me, offering me tea, invited me down into the garden, and there I was, without a bloody clue as to which ME she'd seen, was inviting. 'Aven't felt that 'elpless in a long time, not knowing which mask to put on. 'Ad to've come across as a blooming idiot the way I stumbled around with it, though she says she doesn't remember it that way.

I asked 'er, a long time after, w'at she'd thought when she'd first seen me there in the shadows, and she got the funniest look on her face and told me, "I thought 'well, there he is, finally!', like she'd known me forever, 'ad been just waiting for me to come make my place on top of 'er wall. Neither of us understand it, but that's alright. She says there's some things you don't need to understand, just accept, and I've decided she 'as the right idea. Lord knows there's a whole barrel full of things I don't understand - 'ow Chiefy and Casino and Actor became my friends, my brothers; how Meghada seems to know and love whoever I am inside; how Craig does the same, how 'e can risk so much to be with me, with us. 

I 'aven't tossed any of the masks; I still need them, probably always will. If the military backs outta the deal, I'm right back in Sing Sing and without my masks, I'd be dead inside a week; ruddy 'ell, maybe even with them. Anyways, they're right useful for the jobs we do. But now, at the Cottage, sometimes at the Mansion, I set some of them aside, let them not cover me so completely. The guys say I started doing that a long time ago, well, letting them slip sometimes if I got caught up in the moment.

Meghada, now, she scolds me sometimes, though never mean-like, says I've worn the masks for so long, I'd started to take them for real and don't have enough appreciation for myself. I mean, if you asked, I would describe me as talented in some ways maybe, but short and skinny, snaggle-toothed, pale maybe even pasty, clumsy, not overly bright and a coward, certainly. SHE says I'm talented, yes, but 'you're compact and sleek, with an endearingly crooked eyetooth, fair-complected, much much smarter than you let on even to yourself, and have more than your proper share of courage'. The clumsy she does agree with, at least part of the time; she could 'ardly deny that after I tripped on the rug and wiped out the teapot and both cups the other day.

Don't seem like both of us can be right, and she is so smart in all other ways, I'm starting to wonder if she might be, just a little bit, mind you, right about me. Except about the courage. Yeah, I've done the job they set me, but I was scared almost the whole time. I've stepped in to keep the guys alive more than once, even got shot or beaten up doing it. But that's just like when I'd step in between my 'father' and Mum when 'e'd start laying on with 'is fists; that's w'at you do when someone you love is up against it. Don't make you brave; it's just w'at you 'ave to do. And I don't want the guys to starting thinking I'm anything but a coward; might make them depend on me too much and me let them down, get them 'urt or killed even. Meghada just shakes 'er 'ead, tells me I need to rethink my definition of 'brave' of 'courage', that's where I'm going wrong. Maybe so, maybe so.


End file.
